Stake Out
by perkygirl816
Summary: Just a one shot. Neal & Peter are on stake out. There's banter, then a flashback of what I see as a time when paths may have crossed before Neal was caught. Set at an unspecified time after season 3, but no references to anything that happened during season 4.


_A/N: Un-beta'd, mistakes are all me. I wasn't quite sure how to properly break for the flashback scenes so hopefully what I did makes sense. Slight spoiler for season 3 about a certain painting and one curse word. _

* * *

"When did you ever decide deviled ham and stake outs went together? Is this why I'm the only person who does these with you?"

"Well you are a captive audience" Peter smirked and took another bite of his sandwich.

"Ha. Ha, Peter." Neal said pointedly, "but honestly, of all the foods in the world why do you have to continuously parade the one that manages to smell up the whole car for days?"

"I like what I like. Besides, its my car. When we're doing a stake out in your very own car, you get to pick the food."

"I'm boooored. Face it, he's not going to show." Neal started fidgeting with his phone.

"What are you 5?"

Neal rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Why don't you regale me with you how you actually pulled off the theft of the Raphael?"

"Allegedly, Peter, allegedly!"

It was Peter's turn to roll his eyes. " Neal, you had the painting in hand on the trolley. I think we're past the point of you allegedly doing anything."

"Hey, a true magician never reveals his secrets!"

Peter let out an exasperated sigh. " Fine. Then how about you tell me about the heist that got away."

"Peter, I've been through this, I'm not talking about activities I may or may not have engaged in from 2001 til now."

"Now? so you're still engaging in activities the FBI shouldn't be aware of?"

"You'd figure it out whether or not I told you, so why would I make it easy on you?" Neal flashed his trademark con man grin.

"I would and I wouldn't hesitate to put you right back in prison! But actually, I'm referring to a job you planned but bailed on. You and Mozzie are always together planning hypothetical scores. I'll bet there are some interesting stories behind the ones you didn't do" Neal opened his mouth to protest, but Peter cut him off, "Yes, I know about those meetings so don't even try to act like they don't happen!"

"Sure we drink some wine and run hypothetical jobs but once it gets put in motion, we don't bail… if we ever were to leave the hypothetical realm." Another smile from Neal had Peter getting increasingly more annoyed.

"So really, you completed every plan you set in motion? Even when I was hot on your tail?" Peter took another bite of his sandwich prompting Neal to contort into a disgusted face.

"Fine if it'll get you to put away that retched sandwich, there may have been a handful of isolated incidences, allegedly, of course."

"If you didn't complete it, I can't arrest you for planning it! No one died, right?"

"No, No. Now… the sandwich." Neal nodded towards the half eaten sandwich Peter was lifting to take another bite.

Now it was Peter's turn to sound like a petulant teenager, "Fine." He dropped the sandwich into the bag and zipped it shut. Now story time, Neal."

"Alright, remember the big Klimt exhibit in 2004?"

"Yeah, all our intel was pointing to you being in Chicago at that time."

"Which means our plan was in motion and obviously working! So.."

"But I didn't buy it." Peter asserted.

"What?"

"That intel. I refused to send anyone to Chicago. So what happened?" he gave a self satisfactory smile.

Neal turned to Peter ready to quit his story right there, "Are you going to let me actually tell the story or not?"

Peter grinned, "Fine, fine. Now I'm your captive audience!"

"So it was 2004…."

_***flashback**_

Kate was gone. Neal was getting reckless coming up with grander and grander plans to gain her attention. He had "allegedly" swiped the Antioch Manuscripts and had "allegedly" absconded with her favorite Raphael, yet she was still in the wind.

"The Kiss." He slammed the arts section down on the table in front of Mozzie.

"A bit over-hyped, don't you think? And cliche as far as gestures go, if you ask me. You've been getting reckless with your gestures, maybe it's time to admit she's gone. Besides we seem to continue to have a suit issue. Did you know they followed me?"

Neal gave Mozzie a skeptical look, "No one can follow you, Mozz. And she's not gone, just... taking some time to think. I would hate myself if I didn't do everything I could to try to get her back."

"I didn't say they did for long. Lost them in 10 paces. Guess I'm slowing down in my age. They probably were able to get a full body scan of me in that time and compile a file!" He reached for the bottle of garancha and helped himself to another sizable portion. "They're getting closer and you want to pull of another job? It's been barely 3 days since the last one."

"I have a solution. Chicago."

"Roxie Hart -Chicago? You want to go to a musical? Fitting as its all about prison and fame but I'm not seeing the connection…."

"No, the city."

"I'm not going to Chicago. They may try to say they're just as good as New York, but come on. Too windy too. Besides, isn't the exhibit here?"

"Yes. We just need to lay down a smokescreen. Send them on a chase to Chicago. Then pick while the pickings good. We'll be done and in another city by the time they pull their heads from the sand in time to realize what happened."

"I don't know, Neal. That super suit seems to be closing in. We can try to misdirect but then what? Forge one, replace the original with it and fence the original?"

"Precisely!"

"They always say, don't mess with the classics."

_***end flashback**_

Neal coughed, "allegedly, hypothetically, of course."

"I KNEW IT!" Peter exclaimed. "Had it pegged perfectly. You realize if you had actually done that job, we would have nailed you on the spot!"

"Well I guess I was lucky we regained our senses and called it off. End of story. Hey, is that Alexey?" Neal's pathetic attempt at misdirection was noted.

"Nope. And I have a feeling there's more to this story. You don't just get cold feet. You don't just back out of things, as you said, unless there's guns and if you were only working with Mozzie there would be no guns. Something spooked you and as much as I'd like to believe it was the weight of the FBI closing in around you, I know better. Spill it, Caffrey."

Neal sighed and decided to continue…

_***flashback**_

It was 2 days before the exhibition opening. Neal had just put the finishing touches on his version of "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt and had attempted to put enough misdirecting information out there to point to him being in Chicago, chasing after the girl who got away. He and Mozz had agreed the best in would be as catering staff. The carts would be big enough to hide the copy and sneak out the original. There would be enough people and enough staff for them to disappear quickly. All Neal needed was final info on the venue so he had managed to set up an appointment at the gallery with the event planner. The gallery hadn't been forthcoming with the company doing the planning citing security issues but was happy to facilitate a meeting for the premier ice sculptor in Manhattan.

_***interrupted flashback**_

"Ice Scupltor? Really? Now I know why that event sounds so familiar… that was El's first big gig as an event planner!" It took a moment for the weight of that to sink in. "You were going to rob my wife to get back at me for chasing you."

Neal pulled an annoyed grimace, "Who's telling the story, here?"

"Alright" Peter put up his hands in mock surrender, "on with the story where you were going to steal from my wife."

"I wasn't going to steal from HER! Can I please continue?"

_***return to flashback**_

It was a bright afternoon. Neal didn't believe in disguises but did believe in the power of looking the part he was playing and using that to be almost unremarkable. It wasn't always easy for him to accomplish with his looks, but today he was pulling it off. He produced a pair of thick glasses and mussed his hair. He donned a summer scarf and equally hipster meets artist attire. He was quirky, yet completely forgettable. He had spent the last two days running solely on caffeine as he produced ice sculpture after sculpture. Now it was time to sell them on his work. The ice sculpture on its cart would provide the perfect decoy.

He pushed open the doors and glanced over at the gallery supervisor chatting with who he could only assume was the event planner. For a brief moment, Neal caught himself thinking it was Kate. The planner had shoulder length dark hair just like Kate's. She was slightly more voluptuous than Kate though. That didn't stop him from letting his mind wander for a moment picturing the woman turning around to actually be Kate. They would pretend they didn't know each other and after he would pull her aside and ascertain that she was running a long con to get the painting. A new plan would form as Kate would draw him into her's or vice versa." His thoughts were cut off as he heard the event planner's voice. Something familiar resonated within him and he almost actually started to believe it may be Kate, but it didn't sound like Kate, it just sounded familiar. Neal quickly tucked himself behind a column, not ready to be seen by this mystery woman quite yet. He just needed to see her face, then the plan could continue. In the meantime he scanned the room for any FBI presence and was relieved to see none.

"I assure you, this man is rumored to be the best in the area. I really think you'd agree if you saw his portfolio. Ice sculptures are hot too! When I showed my boss he insisted the two of you meet and hopefully come to a working agreement for Saturday."

"Its Thursday. This really would have been helpful to set in motion a week or two ago."

She still wasn't turning around and Neal still couldn't squash the feeling that he somehow knew this woman. He racked his brain through past cons but was drawing a blank.

"He came to me after the piece ran in the Times. And despite my attempts to brush him off politely, the man just has one of those faces where your head tells you one thing but you find yourself agreeing to the complete opposite!"

"He sounds like a con artist! How can we be certain he didn't just take pictures of someone else's work? How can we be certain he won't just take the money and run leaving us in a lurch on a Saturday afternoon with no cornerstone."

"Which is why I suggested the meeting! If you get red flags from him, we'll just go back to the original plan. I think you'll like him though. He wants to do "The Kiss" out of ice!" Bridget couldn't contain her excitement.

"Fine fine, where is this guy? What time did you say our meeting was?"

Neal was still tucked behind the column when his phone vibrated, "R we in?" is all the message read.

"Not yet. Will keep u postd" He shoved the phone back into his pocket as was about to step out from his hiding spot.

"Oo I think that's him behind that column!" exclaimed Bridget.

The mystery woman finally turned and Neal discovered just why that voice and woman looked familiar. It was the wife of that pesky FBI agent. Neal scanned the room for escape options. He could not go through with this meeting. In fact, he couldn't go through with this heist. He quickly keyed in a response to Mozz.

"The smooch 2 steamy" Simultaneously he removed his pictures from the portfolio and prepared to dump them in the trash and broke the burner phone.

The two women were fast approaching. Neal scanned his brain for a plausible backstory.

"Carlton? This is the event planner and owner of Burke Premiere Events, Elizabeth Burke. Elizabeth, this is Carlton, the ice sculptor I wanted you to connect with."

"Wait. Um…" Neal slouched his posture a bit and shifted back and forth. "I feel absolutely terrible, but I can't do this. It was just supposed to be for a couple bucks, a laugh or two at high society…"

Bridget's face reddened.

Elizabeth Burke grew impatient, "So you decided to waste my time two days before the event?"

"I – I-I" He continued to stammer and act completely flustered, although how much was actually an act is up for debate.

"Oh just go. You know I was actually looking forward to seeing a rendering of the concept you provided Bridget. Don't ever waste my time again. Things like this may seem like a harmless prank, but they're not."

"Yes'm." Neal looked down cautiously avoiding any extended eye contact.

"Excuse me, I'll call security to get him out of here." Bridget stepped in, embarrassed and angry at the fool this kid had just made of her.

It was too late, Neal had already slipped out.

When Neal arrived back at the apartment, he was greeted by an exceptionally agitated Mozzie. "What happened in there?" he demanded. "We don't abort. The plan was solid."

"Elizabeth Burke happened."

"So… a pretty face got you all worked up?"

"You don't get it do you? Elizabeth Burke, wife of one Special Agent Peter Burke."

"Shit. Do you think he planted her in there?"

"The thought crossed my mind, but no. He's smart, but he's not … THAT smart."

"Then what's the big deal?"

"It's her first event with her business. It would ruin her if we hit her event. I couldn't do that to her. She doesn't deserve it."

"A moment of conscience?!" Mozzie could not hide his disdain. "Did someone smack you on the head? Should I smack some sense back into you? Have I mentioned you're getting way too involved in this suit's life? Who cares that is her first event? We're conmen! The minute you start caring about the mark, its over!"

"I said No, Mozz. Besides, it really could be that she's a plant by the FBI."

"But the planning! Near perfect plan never to see the light of day! Speaking of FBI, I should check you for bugs now that we know you were in the presence of Mrs. Suit. And what about your grand gesture to Kate?"

"I'll find another" He took the canvas off the easel and with a swift motion sliced it twice with the utility knife. "It's settled. Besides, didn't you refer to it as cliche earlier?"

Mozzie threw his hands in the air in defeat, "I can't work with you when you're like this." He grabbed his glass and returned to the futon to sulk.

_***end flashback**_

"So that's it? You realized it was my wife and you backed out of a job? I should have gotten her more jobs and put you out of business!" Peter gloated.

Neal groaned, "Annnnnd this is why we don't talk about my alleged past."

"What?" Peter feigned innocence.

"You get all gloat-y. Even when you have nothing to do with the story!" Neal pouted, "honestly, though, she wasn't part of an undercover sting though, was she?"

"No. You're right. Never even occurred to me to use her, but I did have several agents in the catering staff"

"Figures…"

"and the security, the entertainment, the…"

Neal cut him off, "Alright, Alright! I get it. You were most definitely going to catch me that night."

"But you didn't show, the Klimt stayed in its proper home and I caught wicked hell for the overtime expenditure. It would be 6 more agonizing months before I FINALLY caught you."

"Yep, I was there. I remember" Neal snipped but without any venom. They both relaxed for a moment until Peter picked up the sandwich again.

"Really?" Neal groaned. Peter smiled and took a big bite out of it.

After he was done the car was eerily quiet, Peter was the first to break the silence, "By the way, I'm glad you had a moment of conscience. You're right. If you had attempted your little plan, it would have ruined her reputation."

Neal wasn't quite sure how to respond so he simply replied, "Do you think Alexey will ever show?"

There was another moment of strained silence before Peter reached for the radio and put on the replay of the Yankee game.

Neal simply shook his head and sighed as he reclined his seat a bit and returned to watching for Alexey.

* * *

Alexey never showed and midnight, Peter returned home to find El still awake.

"How was the stake out? Neal goad you about the deviled ham as usual?"

"Painfully boring. Alexey never showed at the drop so we got nothing." He yawned and stretched his arms up. "Hey hon, remember your first event?"

"The Klimt exhibition! Of course I remember it, why?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me about the wack-a-doodle kid who came to see you?"

"Because he was just a kid out to pull a prank! Didn't really think it was one of those details you even cared to hear about. Remember, dear, you were in the middle of your obsessive hunt for Caffrey! The mundane details of my day didn't exactly rank highly on your interest . Wait, why are we talking about this?"

"Apparently Neal was that kid you met! At least according to the story he told me. Then again, maybe he was just trying to appease me."

"Huh? I guess that would explain the flowers I received a couple days later."

"Flowers?"

"Yeah with a note and everything. I thought I had just scared the kid when I yelled at him for wasting my time that day! … Wait, THAT was Neal? He was casing my event, wasn't he?"

"Yeah. But get this…"

"What?"

"He saw it was you and that's what made him back out of his plan!"

"I guess you should have had me on the inside of more operations after all! It would have put him out of business pretty quickly! At least in New York."

Peter chuckled, "I had this exact conversation with Neal. He actually thought you were a plant at first, but the real reason was because it was you and your first event and that it would kill your business if he went through with it."

"Aww!"

"I also would have caught him at that event if he had gone through with it and would have nailed him on a lot more than bond forgery."

"It all worked out how it was meant to I guess! Now how about we go upstairs and I help rub out that tension in your shoulders?" She grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs.

* * *

Two days later Neal opened his door to find a cake box waiting for him. He opened it to reveal a beautiful cake with a reproduction the Klimt's "The Kiss" in frosting with two simple words, "Thank you."


End file.
